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He blinked a few times, eyes running over my face and down my body. He took a step closer, his hand darting forward almost unconsciously to palm one of my breasts. It was a casual touch that spoke of absolute intimacy. He was so accustomed to having me under his hands that it was second nature at this point.
His brows drew together. "Why aren't you wearing a bra? Do you realize how revealing that top is like this?"
His mouth twisted up in distaste as his roaming hand made contact with one of the still sticky stains on my shirt. "What's all over you?"
I wanted to punch him in the face. "Long story," I gritted out. I didn't feel like telling him anything. I was just too frustrated by then. The morning couldn't have been going worse.
He wiped his hand on his immaculate suit then brought it back, this time slipping it under my shirt to fondle me. He backed me farther into the woods, until we were well hidden. "I woke up dreaming about last night," he said, voice thickening, eyes on his hand inside my top. "I wish you could have been with me." He stepped closer. "I wish we didn't have to sleep apart. It seems wrong, doesn't it?"
He had no idea. I'd have given anything for that.
Also, he was a master at manipulating me. He'd nearly made me forget why I was so upset with just a few drugging sentences.
Still, I tried to rally, to get back on point. "It's semen," I answered his earlier question.
"What?" he asked sharply, his hand still kneading at my breast, his thumb rubbing circles around my puckered nipple
"On my shirt. It's cum. My grandma went digging through the garbage can outside this morning, found a bunch of our used condoms, and woke me up by throwing them on me."
His free hand came up to finger my cheek, and he seemed to notice my face for the first time. "She was slapping you again, wasn't she?"
I shrugged, dislodging his hand. "Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters! If she's putting her hands on you again, I'm going down there—"
"What are you going to do that you haven't done before? Even if you talk sense into her, she'll forget it all the next time she's drunk."
"Are you okay?"
I shrugged again, not looking at him. "I'm fine." Code, of course, for not fine.
"We're going to go down there, and I will call the police."
"You think that will help? Last time we did that, she turned it on me, said I was hitting her and nearly had me arrested."
"Fuck," he cursed, because he knew I was right. The cops were never on my side. I'd been in too much trouble to ever ask the authorities for help. "Well, I'll walk you down and keep her away from you while you grab some clean clothes. In the meantime, though, take off your shirt."
"Excuse me?"
He grinned, shrugging off his jacket, loosening his tie. "I'll give you mine. You shouldn't have to wear that dirty one for another second." He was already unbuttoning his before he'd finished speaking.
I took off my shirt, and in spite of everything, or maybe because of that, the way his eyes moved on my bared body, I was suddenly ravenous for him—insanely, madly, starved.
I licked my lips, hands going to the button of my jeans. "Dante," I rasped.
He dropped his shirt and jacket on the ground, crowding close to me. He still had his undershirt on, unfortunately, but I took care of it in short order.
"Do you have anything on you?" I asked, rubbing my chest against his.
He was flushed and panting into my face. "Yeah. I was just about to come find you." He pulled a wad of condoms out of his pocket. "Please, please, get on the pill."
I'd had some weird paranoia about my grandma figuring out I was having sex if I went through all the steps of getting on the pill, but that cat was evidently out of the bag. "Okay," I panted, stroking him through his slacks. "I will. Soon as I can."
We didn't even kiss, which may have been a first, but I was too far gone. I braced my hands against a tree as he worked my jeans off, got us both ready, and took me from behind.
He kneaded my breasts, mouth rasping in my ear as he pushed into me.
It was quick but still more tender than rough. I came with a fast and quiet intensity, shutting my eyes tight, barely making a sound.
